Roads go ever ever on
by Lennelle
Summary: Was it worth it? Death litters the feet of the Lonely Mountain and the Company can only ask themselves if it was worth it. A multi-chapter fic of The Battle of Five Armies from the POV of different members of the company
1. Oh, brother Balin

**My first ever Hobbit fic! It will be a multi-chapter fic of the Battle of five Armies from the POV of different members of the Company (not Bilbo's, just read the book for that) the Hobbit is my favourite book and I hope I do the characters justice… and also I do not own any characters etc. they belong to the Tolkien estate (believe me, I wish I did!)**

The Company had dressed in the finest armour Erebor had to offer. Balin himself felt a rush of pride as he marched from the mountain, alongside his companions, clad in the strong, shining metals and encrusted jewels of his ancestors. Dwalin strode beside his brother into battle, as he had so often before. Dain's army of dwarfs from the Iron Hills stood side by side with the fair-folk of Mirkwood and the men of Lake Town.

"Never did I think I would live to see another day like this in my lifetime" Balin expressed once the Company had reached the foot of the mountain, they stood in line on higher rock, peering beyond the heads of men and into the distance where a darkness like shadows gathered.

"Another battle?" Dwalin chuckled, "You're not as old as once you were but that doesn't mean you won't be spilling more blood in your lifetime."

Balin smiled with a sigh, "Not the battle, I never thought I would ever fight with elves and men at my side again."

Balin looked down the line formed by the company, Fili and Kili mirrored himself and Dwalin; smiling together.

_They are far too young for this_, Balin thought; _they do not yet understand what it means to fight in battle._

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the distance where Orc horns blasted with cries of battle and the swiftest Warg riders advanced on them. Balin could only watch as dozens around him were shot down by the flying swarm of arrows, never given the chance to unsheathe their swords.

Dwalin pulled his axe into his hands, having leaned casually on it until now, and parted his feet, ready to fight. Balin pulled out his own sword and charged into the shadow of the enemy, his brother at his side.

The armies crashed into each other like waves on the shore and Balin tore down countless Orcs with a bite of his sword. He could hear the throaty battle cries of Dwalin which tore through the air like razor blades, his axe swinging swiftly at the enemy.

"To me! To me!" Thorin cried from ahead, his sword raised high in the air as he stood atop a small mountain of dead Orcs, "Elves and Men to me!"

And so they obeyed, beings of all kinds; men, elves and dwarfs rushed to the side of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the Mountain. Balin's heart beat with pride for his old friend until he was blocked from his view by the crashing waves of battle and he fought on.

The eagles had come and the battle was won. The only Orcs still living had scattered back to the North leaving behind a countless number of dead. Balin had been wandering through the maze of bodies and abandoned banners and weapons. His face dropped in sadness at the sight of fair-faced elves, staring with glazed eyes and lying among the vile forms of Orcs. Many dwarfs had fallen in battle, folk from the Iron Hills, none he recognised. He could see survivors in the distance searching with hope for friends and brothers. Suddenly Balin's own mind cleared from the weariness of battle and he cried out, "Dwalin!" as he continued through scatter of dead. After a few more cries he heard the gruff yell of Dwalin, "Balin! Brother!"

Balin followed Dwalin's voice to the right where his distant form grew. He felt his entire body sigh in relief until a glint of gold caught his eye; looking down he saw the young and familiar face of Fili; motionless and cold. His armour was streaked with red, flowing down from an ugly wound in his neck.

"No" he simply muttered, placing his hand gently on Fili's cheek, "Wake up, Lad."

Fili's eyes remained closed and Balin dropped his head as he felt his eyes sting with unwanted tears. No one should have died; he didn't want to have to cry for anyone.

"Brother" Dwalin's voice choked from above, "Brother, he…" his voice strangled at his sentence. Balin looked up to see Dwalin cradling a limp form close to his chest, his eyes red and his face wet with tears. Then he crouched down and carefully set the body next to Fili's. Unlike his brother, Kili lay with unseeing eyes and fear shined through them; the last thing he would ever know.

Balin finally broke the silence, "We cannot leave them like this."

Balin leaned over and shut the boy's eyes and placed his cloak over his face, Dwalin removed his own to cover Fili and they carried them both to the tents which lay beyond the destruction.

The other eight of the Company which remained stood silently outside a large tent and turned when Balin and Dwalin appeared. Bofur stepped out from the small crowd, worry trembled on his face.

"It's Thorin" he began, "He… he…" his voice faltered him as his eyes drifted towards the cloth covered bodies.

"Fili and Kili" Balin answered his unspoken question. At those three words the company fell into a respectful silence for the boys until Bofur spoke up again.

"Thorin is still with us but he will not be for much longer" his voice had lost its cheerful ring and remained quiet and empty, "he will want to see you."

Balin looked down at the bundle of cloak in his arms and thought of the first time he had held the boy on the day of his birth.

"I cannot leave him" he said, "We cannot leave the boys here."

"We can take them" a soft voice drifted from behind, "we will keep them safe."

The tall, fair forms of three elves emerged and Balin handed Fili to them, Dwalin was more reluctant and stared dangerously at them.

"Brother, you must" Balin warned, "you cannot hold onto him forever."

Dwalin looked to his brother then sighed, carefully placing Kili's body into the arms of a silver haired elf.

When Balin entered the tent with his brother he felt the colour drain from his face as he saw Thorin. His King's body had been pierced with many wounds and his rasping breath filled the room.

"Oh Thorin" Balin shook his head but Thorin opened his eyes at the sound of his voice, he reached out a hand and Balin took it.

"I want to thank you for everything, my old friends" he spoke slowly, often searching for air, "you always tried to do the right thing even when I could not, you trusted the hobbit when I should have."

Thorin choked before speaking again, "where is he? I should like to speak with him."

"I will find him" Balin replied, though he had not seen Bilbo since before the battle and was unsure if the Burglar was still alive.

"And my nephews" Thorin continued, "Are they alive?"

At this Balin could feel a lump rise in his throat and tears threatened his eyes but he only said, "They are fine, they will come to see you soon."

"Why did you lie to him?" Dwalin demanded him as the left the tent.

"I hadn't the heart to tell him" Balin replied, "But it was no lie; he will see them again soon."

At this, Dwalin only nodded in understanding. The brothers stood shoulder to shoulder; staring into the distance where the lonely mountain stood, their reclaimed home.

"All I wonder now" Balin said, "is if it was worth it."

At this, Dwalin said nothing but instead grasped his brother by the shoulders and placed his own forehead to Balin's before pulling away to rejoin the remaining Company.

**Hope you enjoyed! And I hope it wasn't too long! Reviews would be most welcome and stay tuned for more chapters if you liked this one :) **


	2. The last of Durin

Thorin studied his new allies as he marched passed the gates of Erebor; _his_ rightful kingdom, with the twelve dwarfs in his Company in line behind him. All were silent, though the distant cries of Orcs grew in their ears, and eyes of all kinds studied Thorin and his small army as they took their own place among the Dwarfs of the Iron Hills. Bard stood on a high rock behind 200 soldiers of Lake-town, an arrow fitted into his bowstring; his face grim. The Elves remained as fair as ever; silver-haired and slender with their king, Thranduil, towering above his own army of 1000 astride a great white elk.

Talk echoed quietly through the Company but Thorin focused his gaze on the horizon where a swarm of Orcs and Wargs grew like a shadow. Such filth would never have what was his right, what he had inherited from his ancestors, what he would one day pass on to his own heir; Fili.

A sharp cry from the Orc horns echoed off the mountain, shattering the hope of countless young soldiers into fear but Thorin's own heart did not sink in terror at the sight before him, instead it only blackened in pure hatred; fuelling his strength.

"Take cover!" Bard yelled from behind, Thorin quickly drew his own shield high above his head as Orc arrows showered over them like heavy raindrops; taking down any who were too slow.

Rage burned through him like a white hot fire and he leaped forward; sword in hand, with old and new comrades at his side. Thorin made his way through the mass of Orcs, cutting them down easily with each swing of his sword, soaking the silver of his sword in black. But Thorin's mind craved the blood of one Orc in particular; Bolg son of Azog. All traces of Azog the defiler's filthy blood would be wiped from this world.

_Never will that blood line so much as touch any of the line of Durin, _vowed Thorin as he tore down another Orc with blowing strike of his sword. He climbed on top of a pile of dead Orc, searching the battle ground for Bolg amongst the flickering of black against silver. As if Aulё had heard him, there in the distance was Bolg astride his own great Warg. Every inch of Bolg was foul; from his contorted, white face and blood stained hair to the bones he wore for armour and like his father he towered above other Orcs. Catching sight of Thorin in the distance he spat violently in the black language of Mordor and raised his club in the air with a sneer before his bodyguard advanced on the dwarf-king. Thorin knew that even he would never penetrate the barrier of protection which Bolg's guards had formed without aid so he raised his own weapon to mirror Bolg and called out, "To me! To me! Elves and Men to me!"

The mortals and Fair-folk answered with their own battle cries as they charged at the enemy, however these were giant Orcs of Moria and would not be so easily defeated and defended their own king mercilessly. Soon Thorin found himself alone against the great Orcs and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" cried Thorin and charged in Bolg's direction, with his shield held over his breast. The Orc king did not even flinch and instead sent one of his Warg riders forward to take the Dwarf-king down but he had underestimated Thorin who threw a heavy swing at the Wargs feet; pulling it to the ground with a pitiful yelp. The Orc rider scrambled to it's feet with a hiss and went for him only to be cut down also as Thorin let out a blood thirsty cry.

Thorin let out a laugh as he revelled in his glory; he had been untouchable and now he would end Azog's bloodline. There was a sudden _crack _and Thorin's shield flew out of his hand and landed in amongst the chaos of war, he looked around frantically but could find nothing to protect himself with, not even an oak branch. Another of Bolg's guards had broken away from the barrier to attack Thorin and it sneered at him, showing blood-stained teeth. The creature began to advance on Thorin who readied himself, ignoring the pain shooting through his left arm. Suddenly the beast stumbled back before crashing to the ground; a short and sturdy arrow protruded from its neck, rich brown in colour with dusty yellow feathers. Thorin knew these arrows and turned to find Kili standing with an empty bow and a smile of relief across his face, the young dwarf turned away quickly to fend off a new enemy and Thorin was left alone again; three great Orcs now stood between him a Bolg. He took down another as easily as the first and stood proudly on top of the Wargs motionless form. A sudden pain burst through his right shoulder and he let out a cry as he dropped his sword and stumbled from the beast's body to the ground. Clutching his shoulder with his left hand he could feel a hot liquid run between his fingers and pulled his hand away to find it covered in a deep red. The Orc which had caused the injury let out a cackle before its head finally dropped and moved no more. Thorin darted passed another Wargs clamping jaw and dove for his sword; his right arm hurt too much to hold it so he would have no choice but to use his weaker arm. He rose again only to be greeted by another splitting pain in his stomach before being flung back by an agonising strike to the jaw.

When Thorin hit the ground he felt is entire body groan in pain, time seemed to slow as the figures around him blurred together. A shadow loomed closer until he felt himself bathe in its darkness and closed his eyes ready for the final blow. But he had vowed to destroy Bolg, he was meant to be king under the mountain and now he was going to die.

_Was all of this worth it? _He wondered, _all this death and destruction for a pile of gold which I will probably never see again._

A blow had never come. His senses began to return to him and he could hear dwarfish battle cries. His eyes unglued themselves and he looked over his chest to see a flame of golden hair. Fili was tearing down one of the last two Orcs, Bolg and his final guard stood silently behind; no one dared touch them. Thorin could notice the smaller of the two raise a bow and arrow and aimed towards the distance. Fili seemed to notice too; his eyes wide with shock, he ran in the direction of the target and disappeared from Thorin's sight as the arrow was released.

Consciousness was beginning to slip away as a new shadow crept towards him; another larger shadow grew behind and consumed it before turning away and savagely tearing down in Bolg.

Thorin let himself smile. _The filth is gone, I may not have been the one to take it from the world but it's gone. _Finally he fell into the looming darkness.

Thorin had woken almost two hours ago, a great red tent hung all around him as Elf healers hurried around to tend to his fatal wounds. He had known he would die before he had woken up and wished to speak to all of the Company before he finally left for the halls of his fathers. He finally spoke with every member of the company, except for his sister-sons and had apologised to Bilbo; he knew now that the Hobbit had done the right thing in concern to the Arkenstone. He truly believed now that it would be the simpler folk who would save Middle Earth from corruption. Thorin could only lay waiting as he wanted to say farewell to Fili and Kili but his body had grown so tired; even his eyes were tired as his lids drooped shut. It was getting colder but not in an unpleasant way and he allowed the chill to wash the pain from his wounds.

_Goodbye my nephews _Thorin could only call out in his mind; he knew he was running out of time, _I leave this world now and know I leave Erebor in better hands than my own._

He let a calm white shadow absorb him as heaved a ragged breath and breathed no more.

**Wow! I really wasn't sure about this chapter at first as Thorin is a difficult character to write for but eventually I managed to flow through it. A huge thanks to everyone who followed and favourited: it really means a lot. Also a special thank you to Bluestarshine and Aranel Mereneth for reviewing. **

**Note: I decided not to feature Azog in the BoFA as he isn't even in the book and Bolg is the one who leads the Goblin army, I personally hope that in the movies Azog dies soon and Bolg leads the army out of revenge (but that's just my thoughts)**

**Also I would really appreciate any thoughts/ criticism so reviews are most welcome. Thank you and stay tuned for more! :)**

**Also "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu" is an ancient Dwarf battle cry meaning "The axes of Dwarfs! The Dwarfs are upon you!**


	3. With shield and body part 1

It was much warmer inside the mountain. Understandable, seeing as a fire-breathing dragon had dwelt in there for over a century but there was a chill in the air and Fili could feel it; this wasn't just a chill from the oncoming winter but there was something else; a sense of foreboding. Fili realised that this was obvious, the growing swarm of Orcs in the distance showed that, but there was something wrong as if something terrible was going to happen. Fili could feel it in his bones. He felt strange, clad in the heavy armour of his anscestors, proud but still strange. He could tell his younger brother felt the same way; he fidgeted at the strap of his cloak, ignoring the eyes of elves, men and unfamiliar dwarfs. Kili continued to attempt to tug the cloth into the correct place even as they stood in line; facing the enemy.

"Give it here," Fili offered, he smiled at his brother as he pinned the cloak onto the armour, "I don't think Orcs will be bothered if you look your best."

Kili gave a weak smile in return. "I didn't want it to fall off."

"Yeah, then you would truly look idiotic."

Kili didn't reply; Fili looked to his little brother to find him staring into the distance, his brows furrowed and eyes wide. He was worried, not something Fili had ever seen on his brother's face when there was a battle coming, normally his eyes blazed with fury… no, something would burn in his eyes but not that…

"There's so many of them," Kili whispered, his breath latched onto the air, creating a swirl of cold smoke.

"No more than we can take," Fili nudged his brother although he knew Kili had never been in a battle like this but neither had he. This was war.

This seemed to make Kili laugh, "We could take them all by ourselves," he grinned, "Just like we crushed that Orc army beneath our feet."

"Tiny Orcs made from wood," Fili reminded him, "And we did crush them beneath our feet, they were only about three centimetres tall and you were five years old."

"I don't see how this could be any different" Kili smiled, his eyes searched his memories, "You were always exceptionally good at crushing."

"Well, I had about five years more crushing experience than you, I had mastered it before you were even born."

They laughed together, remembering the times when Orcs were less frightening and far easier to destroy; their laughs were cut off by the sharp cry of Orcs and the low rumble of their horns. The battle was about to begin.

The worry in Kili's eyes had vanished, that other _thing_, Fili still couldn't tell what it was, had replaced it. Fili tightened his grip on the hilt of his dual swords, in the corner of his eye he could see his younger brother notching an arrow into his bow sting, as had done so often before.

Someone cried out from behind and Fili instinctively ducked under his shield, dropping a sword and pulling Kili under with him. He felt the irregular thuds hammer against the metal of the shield and the dropping weight of bodies around him. Time swept past in a blur, Fili hadn't noticed himself move but now he was fighting with Kili at his side. Fili must have left one of his swords behind because now he was fighting with only one, tearing down Orc after Orc. Kili sent arrows flying in all directions, never missing his targets.

More Orcs flooded through and Kili was shoved further away by the cruel pull of the tide. Fili searched frantically for his brother as waves of battle lapped around him. He fought mercilessly, praying that he was not avenging Kili's death. Not far away he could see the silver armour of Erebor, a red cloak brushing against the wind and dark hair. Kili.

Fili ran in that direction, ducking under the tidal wave of battle, until he reached a clearing among the rage of war. This wasn't Kili, it was Thorin and Fili arrived just in time to see his uncle fly backwards, landing with a thud a small distance away. A great Orc wielding a large steel scimitar advanced on Thorin, raising its weapon as it got closer. Fili stopped thinking and ran forward, raising his own sword then finally bringing the Orc down from behind, the beast let out a hideous wail before Fili silenced it with a final whip of metal against its neck. Another great Orc advanced on Fili, astride a Warg, water dribbled hungrily at it mouth. Fili took them both down easily; he was fuelled by a fiery passion to protect Thorin and a white hot hatred for the animals. He stood near Thorin now, his feet parted as if to create a larger barrier between his uncle and the Orcs. The smaller of the two raised a bow, Fili raised his own weapon in defence but the arrow wasn't aimed at him or Thorin.

Fili whirled around, following the direction of the path which the arrow was about to take. Kili. Everything seemed to slow down, Fili cried out to his little brother but Kili didn't seem to hear him. Fili ran. An arrow was released. A target was met.

Fili didn't feel it straight away. He didn't feel anything. A huge pressure suddenly crushed down on his neck, bringing a searing pain with it. He clutched at his neck and felt the arrow protruding from deep within his flesh, hot liquid flooded out between his fingers. He looked up to see Kili standing there, his eyes and mouth wide. He felt his knees buckle under his weight. He never used to be so heavy. Or was he weaker?

His landing was softer than he expected, he felt familiar hands lower him into an embrace and looked up to see Kili who was crying out for help.

_It's too late_, Fili tried to speak but found that his voice was gone. Instead of sound, blood was released from his throat and he spluttered, the taste of metal filled his mouth.

Kili was crying, words poured frantically from his mouth as he clutched tightly at Fili, not daring to let go, but Fili found that his ears weren't working anymore. He was starting to fade. But beyond the pain and distress, Fili knew he had saved his little brother and now he would die happy. He looked into his brothers eyes for the last time and finally knew what lingered there, hiding behind the tears. It was loyalty. A fierce will to protect those he loved. At this, Fili felt the last of his own tears slide down his cheek. Everything began to fade until all he saw was his brother. The blaze of love and loyalty had died in his eyes, and something entirely new gleamed there. A yearn for revenge. As Kili faded into shadow, Fili made his final prayer; he prayed that this had all been worth it, that Kili would not be reckless and that he would be the only one of the Company to join the halls of his fathers for a long time.

**This** **was a tough one! And Kili's chapter is next, I don't know if I can even handle it! I really hope it wasn't too long but I suppose that makes up for the lack of updates. I've been busy with Christmas shopping and school work… and to make things worse, the internet connection decides to go on holiday for a week!**

**Thanks to Borys68 and Horsey for reviewing and double thanks to Bluestarshine for your second review! You guys fill my head with knowledge and make my heart sing! I'll try my best to update more often and in the meantime I welcome your reviews :) **


	4. With shield and body part 2

Kili's fingers were numb as the cold breeze brushed against them. The stiffness only made it more difficult to adjust his cloak. To wear the armour of Erebor was one of the many things he had looked forward to when they reclaimed their homeland but now that he was finally wearing the heavy silver plating and was clad in the thick under shirt and cloak, it only felt unfitting. If they had left the mountain only a few moments earlier, he might have been ready. It was quite funny when Kili thought about it, _such a long quest to reclaim our home, only to leave for battle as soon as we got there._

He focused on securely pinning his cloak to his armour, swerving slightly as he marched and only just managing to maintain his footing on the rocks. He looked around to check if anyone had noticed but all eyes were set on the distance and Kili pulled his gaze back to his fingers and continued to fiddle with the cloth and metal. He hadn't even noticed stopping in line until he was pulled back to reality by Fili.

"Give it here," he said, Fili smiled at his little brother with reassurance and pinned Kili's cloak with ease, "I don't think Orcs will be bothered if you look your best" he joked.

Kili could tell what Fili was doing. He did it all the time, looking after his little brother and making him feel better was like a job Fili had been born for. But that didn't mean that he was always good at it, at times, Fili's words would make no difference. At these times Kili would try his best to make Fili feel like he had done his job well.

"I didn't want it too fall off", Kili knew that this was a poor attempt at humour and tried to cover it with a smile.

"Yeah, then you would truly look idiotic," Fili went on.

Kili wasn't paying attention; he focused on the distance where a swarm of Orcs grew nearer. Kili tried to count but it was impossible; there must be thousands of them. He hadn't been afraid before, not truly, and he wasn't now, at least not for himself. They were vastly outnumbered and Kili feared for the lives of his kin.

"There's so many," he whispered his thought out loud.

"No more than we can take," his big brother nudged him and Kili looked up to find a familiar, friendly gleam in his eyes. This reminded Kili of their childhood; when they were indestructible. They remembered and laughed together, as they had done all their lives and Kili hoped that this would not be the last time.

The sound of Orc horns ripped through the air; cutting their laughter off. Kili readied himself; arrow notched in bow and feet parted to run for the attack. His chest heaved with the hatred he felt for the growing swarm. They would not take Erebor from them now, not after all they had been through. Kili was so consumed in fearlessness that he hadn't noticed being pulled to the ground and found that he was sheltered under a great metal shield with Fili at his side.

Kili moved with the battle like a fish swimming with the current. He shot arrows at Orcs which came to close. Soon he found no familiar faces; his brother was gone from his site and any dwarf he saw, he didn't know. Kili had no time to think and fought on. He only had a few arrows left and unsheathed his sword in case he needed them later. He fought through the rage of battle, finding a higher slope of rock, and climbed for a clearer view. Further down in a clearing he saw his uncle, a great Orc advanced on him and Kili did no hesitate before loading his bow and pulling back the string. His arrow met his target and he smiled with relief as Thorin met his eyes briefly. He turned back to the fight quickly, tearing down a new threat. Kili grew more and more tired as the battle raged on but he only held his sword higher as his arm grew heavier.

Kili's ears pricked up; he could have sworn he heard someone call his name. He pushed against the tide and turned to find Fili. He smiled at the sight of his brother only to find his relief drowned out by a sudden heat of fear. He had never been truly afraid, not until now.

Fili stood, his fingers gripping at his neck, blood pouring from the arrow which impaled his neck. Kili ran and caught his brother as his legs failed him; he lowered him into his arms and held on tightly. Kili found himself panting and dripping with sweat and tears.

"Help me!" Kili cried out but this was no place where he would find help, "help" he choked quietly on his word.

He looked down and cradled Fili's face in his trembling hands. His brother choked and spluttered, peppering his golden braids with drops of crimson.

"No no no!" Kili felt the words falling from his mouth, "You can't leave me now! I won't let you!"

Shouting at his brother wouldn't save him but he was running out of time. Fili continued to choke as his eyes began to droop.

"No, don't you dare," Kili choked on his tears and clutched Fili to his chest, "You'll be fine, please be fine!"

The movement in his arms had ceased and Kili loosened his grip on his brother. Fili's head lolled back, revealing the extent of the wound; the arrow had buried deep, releasing an endless flow of blood which had finally stopped. An ugly scream sounded in his ears, only for him to realise it was escaping from his lips. He breathed heavily; the flow of tears began to end. The sound around him was muffled; words would occasionally seep through, "the eagles have come!"

So it would be over soon. Fili had died and it was almost over. None of this made sense.

Kili lowered his brother's head and placed his own forehead to the cold of Fili's. He rose, sword in hand and felt the empty chill of the air against his cheeks. The eagles were picking the Orcs from the ground like mice but some were running away. They would be free.

"Moria scum," Kili cried to them, "You will pay for this!"

He leaped forward and slashed at them. He destroyed countless Orcs, continuing to strike even when they were stone cold. He felt his inside split and the air rushed beneath his feet before the sharp surface of rock greeted his back. A warg appeared above him, drool dripped over his face. Kili could see his sword in the corner of his eye but if he moved the beast would surely lunge. The black language spat at him and he found an Orc towering above. Kili made no hesitation and lunged to the side and grabbed his sword. He impaled the warg before it could attack and clambered to his feet to face the Orc. It snarled and shot its hand out like lightening. Kili looked down at the dagger imbedded in his chest and could only leap forward in fury; finishing the Orc.

The battle had ended and the field was clearing. Kili staggered forward, clutching his chest, his wound was throbbing. He collapsed, gasping for breath.

_This is it, _he thought, _this is what death feels like. Lonely._

He had to get to Fili somehow and he used his free arm to drag himself across the hills of rock and body. His strength had failed and he was growing colder. Kili let himself rest against an unmoving form. A dead Orc lay next to him, it's cruel face contorted and motionless, Kili spat blood at it in a final attempt at revenge. He lay there as time dragged on and he hoped someone would find him. His breaths began to cut off and he found himself panic.

_I'm not ready._

Hands grabbed him and the pain was gone, death had claimed him. He looked up to see a familiar face beneath a mess of golden hair and braids.

"Fili?"

His brother smiled at him and Kili noticed that his neck was clean. Fili held out a hand and pulled Kili up. The mountain's feet were empty.

"Don't worry little brother, death is only another adventure." 

**And so we say our final goodbye to our favourite Durin brothers. I wasn't sure about the last bit but I felt that they deserved a happy ending… let me know what you think? I'm unsure where this is going now so give me time. And thanks to the new favourite… you know who you are and also thanks for reading :)**


End file.
